


The Acolyte

by phantomthief_fee



Series: The Assistant [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: And Henry's not happy about that, Basically Cordelia goes crazy, False Protagonist AU for a couple chapters, The Assistant Bad End
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-30
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-02-08 15:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12867519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phantomthief_fee/pseuds/phantomthief_fee
Summary: Henry returns to Joey Drew Studios after 30 years, only to find two psychotic cultists waiting for him instead of one.





	1. Chapter 1

Today was a joyous day for Cordelia Bell. She could finally prove herself to Sammy! An outsider had entered the studio and she was going to bring him to her prophet and saviour. She crept through the shadows, watching the outsider intently. Something about him seemed awfully familiar, although she couldn’t quite put her finger on what it might be. No matter. He was an outsider. Unimportant. His purpose was to bring Sammy’s attention to her. Sammy would love her. He had to. Unfortunately, by the time she’d cornered the outsider, Sammy had already noticed the man’s presence. So much for the element of surprise. 

“It seems we have a visitor, my dear.” He said, watching from the balcony as the man played Susie’s recording. 

“I had hoped to bring him to you.” Cordelia fiddled with her dress. “As a sort of gift. For our Lord, of course.”

“How thoughtful of you, my sheep.” Sammy absentmindedly patted her head. Cordelia fought to contain her excitement. He’d acknowledged her efforts!

“What shall we do with them, my prophet?” She asked eagerly. Anything he asked, she’d do it in a heartbeat, as long as he praised her for it. 

“He shall be a sacrifice for our Lord,” Sammy said. “Our saviour will finally notice us. This one is different. I can tell.”

“You feel it too?” She’d thought it was just her imagination. Her imagination played such tricks on her these days. “It’s like I know him, somehow.”

“It’s proof that he is the one. Our Lord will finally set us free with this man as a sacrifice!” Sammy spread his arms wide. Cordelia jumped up and down, clapping her hands together. This was so exciting! The day Sammy had promised her was finally at hand! They would be set free! Maybe then she’d finally remember everything. There were so many gaps in her memory, so many fuzzy pieces. 

“Shall I bring him to the circle?” Cordelia asked.

“Please do.” Sammy patted her head, disappearing into an ink stain. Cordelia did the same, coming out of a puddle behind the man and hitting him over the head with a wrench. With that down, she hoisted him over her shoulder and carried him to the circle where they usually sacrificed their victims. The man was rather small, so it wasn’t too hard. Sammy waited just outside the circle, the ropes ready. 

“Well done.” Sammy took the man from her, beginning to tie the man to their sacrificial post. After a few minutes, the man began to stir. He looked around wildly once he did, obviously panicked. Then his eyes landed on Cordelia. She smiled and waved. 

“C-Cordelia?” He asked. 

“Yes?” She tilted her head to the side. How did he know her name? Had he worked at the studio? Perhaps that was why he looked so familiar. 

“Roy’s been looking everywhere for you! What happened?”

“Who’s Roy?” 

A look of horror crossed the man’s face at that question. Cordelia didn’t understand why he was so upset. Sure, the name sounded familiar, but she didn’t need to concern herself with memories at the moment. She needed to assist Sammy in sacrificing this man. That was what was important. 

“Roy...Roy is your brother.” The man said. “You two are almost inseparable.” 

“Mmm.” Cordelia frowned, then nodded. “Yeah, I guess that sounds right. My prophet, do you remember this...Roy?”

“Vaguely.” Sammy shrugged from where he knelt, lighting the candles. “I bear no ill will towards him.”

“Then neither do I!” Cordelia said brightly. “How do you know my brother, anyway?”

“I met him once or twice when he came by the studio.” The man explained. “You don’t remember that?” Cordelia didn’t answer, studying the man’s face instead. He’d definitely worked at the studio. She had vague memories of Roy coming to the studio a few times during her earlier days. He’d always been so overprotective, she remembered that much. Who had he talked to while he was there? Suddenly, realization hit her. 

“It’s him!” Cordelia’s eyes widened and she pointed to the man with one deformed finger. “It’s Henry!” 

“What do you mean?” Sammy turned away from tightening the knots on the man, no, Henry’s bindings. Henry’s heart began to pound. He knew Joey at the very least had seen his departure from the studio as a betrayal, and in their altered states, these two could think the same thing. His worst fears were confirmed when Cordelia spoke again.

“When I woke up, you told me about a traitor who had abandoned our studio and us!” She said, beginning to flap her arms in excitement. “This is him! This is Henry! He left us at the mercy of Joey Drew!” Behind his mask, Sammy’s eyes widened. He looked at Henry, a smile spreading across his inky features. Henry’s heart sank. They knew. 

“Well, well.” He began to laugh. “No wonder I felt you were special, little sheep. You are the one our Lord has been looking for. You will be the ultimate sacrifice.” 

“Are you proud of me, my prophet?” Cordelia asked. 

“I am. You have done well, my acolyte.” Sammy kissed the top of her head before disappearing into the recording booth. Cordelia waited for a moment, then began jumping around in delight.

“I don’t care what that witch Alice says, this is proof!” She squealed. “It’s proof that he loves me!”

“Wait, Alice?” Alice couldn’t possibly be here too. 

“She’s on the lower levels.” Cordelia nodded. “But we don’t go down there. She doesn’t understand our devotion to our Lord. She hates us. Well,” she paused. “She hates Sammy. I don’t understand why. She says Sammy’s a liar. But he wouldn’t lie. Not to me. He loves me.” 

“I can’t believe this,” Henry muttered. 

“Well, it’s time to believe,” Cordelia said, then started laughing. “Do you see what I did there? Sammy likes saying it all the time.”

“What happened to you, Cordelia?” Henry sounded almost like a parent bemoaning their child growing up. “You used to be so sweet.” For a moment, the creature that was Cordelia was silent, staring intently at him. When she spoke again, Henry wished she hadn’t.

“Do you know what it’s like living like this, Henry?” Cordelia asked, getting in so close that their noses were almost touching. He could see her single visible eye, the veins black with ink instead of red with blood. “Voices in your head, screaming, screaming, screaming!” She beat at her head, backing up. “Each one trying to take you over. Each one trying to make your form their own. They never stop! You have to constantly fight to keep yourself together!” She paused for a moment. “It’s better than the Dark Place, though. Anything’s better than the Dark Place.” 

“The dark place?” Henry asked, visibly shaken.

“It’s where we are before we’re here,” Cordelia answered, drawing into herself. “Where it’s always voices all the time, and you can’t tell which bits are yours and which are someone else’s. Sammy pulled me out of it. He reminded me who I was.” She smiled softly. “He showed me the wonders of our Lord. Bendy will set us free. He will set  **all** of us free.” 

“Why do you worship Bendy in the first place?” Henry asked. That was one thing he just couldn’t quite wrap his head around. In his mind, Bendy was nothing more than a cartoon character, an idea he’d sketched on paper time and time again. Seeing him in the real world was still a bit startling. And even then, that monstrosity didn’t exactly make him think of a saviour. 

“He controls the ink, and therefore us, for we are  _ of  _ the ink.” She gestured around the studio, smiling widely. 

“Of the ink...” Henry repeated. She seemed to have a better grasp on reality than Sammy did, or maybe she was just more talkative. 

“We were born from it. Given a second life by it.” Cordelia continued with a dreamy expression on her face. “We are the chosen ones, he and I. We are the only ones who know who we are. Even Alice has forgotten her true name but  **we** , we remember.”

“Why is Sammy so important to you?” Henry asked. If she remembered the letters, then perhaps he could remind her of who she actually was. The kind little intern he’d known still had to be in there somewhere. She was only like this because she couldn’t remember. If he could get her back to the way she was before, maybe he could save Sammy too. Cordelia had talked Sammy down from many a rant during their time at the studio.

“I...I don’t know.” Cordelia’s face twisted into a comical frown. “I just know that he is. He brought me out of the ink, after all, and the first name I remembered was his. So he must be important to me somehow.” 

“So...Do you just do whatever he says without question?”

Cordelia’s frown deepened at that, and her whole demeanour changed. “Do you think me some thoughtless pawn?” She asked, stalking up to him. “How pathetic. I have a mind of my own, you know. I follow Sammy and Our Lord because the benefits of doing so outweigh the negatives. Do you think I’d rather be a Searcher, crawling around aimlessly? Or working for the witch as some sort errand girl? No. Such things are beneath me. I am a chosen one. My form still resembles that of a human. I was destined to preach His gospel alongside my prophet. You are nothing but a traitor, a Judas. You will not sway my faith. He was there for me when no one else was and you will not turn me against him.”

The speakers crackled to life, and, thankfully, Cordelia’s attention was taken off of Henry. She began to hum, stepping out of the pentagram to take her place beside the door to the recording booth.

“It’s time~,” She said in a sing-song voice. 

“Sheep, sheep, sheep. It’s time for sleep. Rest your head. It’s time for bed.” Sammy’s voice drifted out of the speakers. “In the morning, you may wake. Or in the morning, you’ll be dead.” The studio began to shake as the door before Henry began to rise. Cordelia’s smile widened. 

“Hear me, Bendy! Arise from the darkness! Arise and claim my offering!” Sammy’s voice rose, like a preacher giving a sermon. “Free me! I beg you! I summon you, Ink Demon! Show your face and take this traitor!” There was a loud bang coming from the recording booth, causing Cordelia to frown and turn. 

“No! My lord! Stay back! I am your prophet! I am your-” Then the music director screamed. 

“Sammy? Sammy, what’s going on?” Cordelia began to try the doorknob. When that didn’t work, she resorted to banging on it with her fists. Henry took this opportunity to wriggle free of the ropes, grabbing his axe from where it had been propped up. He started running. Cordelia’s head snapped around and she stormed after him, stopping just short of the door. 

“YOU WILL PAY FOR THIS, TRAITOR!” She roared. “WE WILL BE SET FREE! YOU WILL SATE THE HUNGER OF OUR LORD!” But Henry was already gone. Cordelia ran back to the door, kicking at it until it popped open. Inside was nothing but a puddle of ink with Sammy’s mask beside it. At first, she thought the worst. Their Lord had destroyed Sammy! He had betrayed his prophet! No. She quickly shook her head. He couldn’t have. Their Lord would reward his followers. Sammy had told her that. They would be rewarded for their devotion. So dove into the ink, coming out on a lower level. Sammy stood before her, putting up a Bendy cutout.

“You’re alright!” She launched herself at him, wrapping her arms around his chest. 

“Of course I am.” He said, smiling. “Our Lord would not hurt his prophet.”

“I knew he wouldn’t.” She couldn’t help but smile. She’d been so worried she’d lost him. 

“But now we know, our Lord wants to deal with the traitor on his own.” Sammy’s expression grew solemn. “No doubt he will discover the false angel and fall under her spell. In any case, it’s out of our hands now. We must only continue to show our devotion to our Lord.”

“He probably has some kind of plan.” Cordelia agreed. “As long as we follow him, our prayers will be answered.”

Sammy’s smile returned. “That’s my clever acolyte.”

“He will set us free.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bit of a cuter chapter, including a prompt from Rocketman23. She wanted Sammy taking care of his sleepy acolyte

“Sammy, what do you remember from before here?”

Sammy paused in putting up another Bendy cutout. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what do you remember from before we were like this?” She was chewing on her lip, an old habit from when she’d still been human. She’d been gnawing for so long that her lower lip was starting to bleed. Instead of the tangy taste of iron, though, she tasted ink.

“Why are you asking this?” Sammy stood up, dusting his overalls off out of habit. 

“Well, Henry mentioned a brother I didn’t remember before.” She said. “And...I was wondering what else I might have forgotten.”

“You would heed that traitor’s words?” Sammy hissed. “You would let him tempt you?”

“Don’t get smart with me.” She said, scowling at him. “My faith is sound. I just...I feel like I’m missing something. There’s so much I can’t remember.” 

“Like what?”

“Like...Your hair colour.” She said after a brief pause. “I can’t remember if it was brown or blonde. Or maybe it was neither.”

“I don’t see how that matters.” Sammy turned away, returning to the Bendy cutouts. “Such things are trivial, at best.”

“But I want to remember your face.” She said, sighing heavily. “Mine too.” She trailed off “I had shorter hair, once, didn’t I?”

“And a little bow you always wore in your hair.” Sammy smiled softly, although she couldn’t see the expression. 

“Oh yeah.” She leaned back against the studio wall. “I think Roy liked it.”

“You always looked cute with that bow.” 

“Why thank you, my prophet.” She bowed grandly, her hair dragging on the floor. She started giggling a little. “God, I sound so uptight.” 

“We both do.” Sammy reached over to ruffle her hair. It wasn’t easy to do with her hair mostly being made of ink, but he at least managed to displace the ink. They laughed for a few moments, before both lapsing into silence. 

“I want to go back to being human,” Cordelia said, her shoulders slumping. “I want it to be quiet. I don’t want to have to live like this anymore.” She knew that normal people didn’t have voices screaming in their heads all the time, didn’t have to constantly remind themselves of who they were. Or, at least, she thought she knew...

“Neither do I.” Sammy agreed. “But our Lord will reward us, I promise.”

“But...What if he doesn’t?” She didn’t want to ask questions like that, but someone had to. Someone had to ask the questions so they could dispel them. 

“You can’t talk like that!” Sammy grabbed her by the shoulders. “Your devotion cannot waver, my sheep! We must be saved together!” 

“I know.” Cordelia nodded, avoiding looking him in the eye. “I’m just...I’m scared.” In the quieter moments, fear crept up on her. When she wasn’t sycophantically reciting back whatever Sammy had told her, when she was by herself, she thought. She tried to piece together the fragments of her memories, tries to remember that there had been a time before this. Her strongest memory, the only one she’d managed to hold onto, was bringing Sammy coffee one day. His face was blurred, his form only a rough outline, but she could smell the cigar smoke, feel the sting in her nostrils. Smells and tastes were strongest. Sometimes she could taste the pancakes her brother made for her, or catch a whiff of his cologne as she walked down a hallway. She’d always hated Roy’s cologne. When she remembered, she was scared. Scared she’d never get back to the way things had been. She’d been doing something before she’d come here. It was something important, even if for the life of her she couldn’t piece together what it had been. She had something she needed to get back to.

“I understand your fear,” Sammy said, kissing the top of her head. “It is one I too share. But we must have faith.” She nodded, burrowing into his chest. As long as she had him, she’d be alright. 

“We should get back to work.” She said, smiling up at him. 

“Don’t work yourself too hard, my sheep.” He said as she walked away. 

About two hours later he found her almost asleep on her feet, her form beginning to distort melt. Clicking his tongue, he wasn’t sure how he still had one, he strode over. 

“I told you not to work yourself too hard.” He said. 

“‘M not!” She tried to push him away. “Gotta put up the cutouts. For our Lord. He must see my devotion.”

“Yes, I know.” Sammy picked her up bridal style. She struggled weakly, her form becoming even goopier. 

“Nooo! Gotta work.” She whined. “Put me down!”

“No. You’re going to sleep.” He said, heading for his office. Cordelia whined loudly, although her struggling became weaker and weaker. Eventually, she fell asleep against his chest. He stopped just short of his office, staring down at the girl in his arms. 

“You’re a handful, you know that?” He said, heading into the office and setting her down on a cot he kept in the corner. He was struck by a vague memory of coming back to her like this once before. He’d been in a shouting match with...someone and he’d come back to find her having fallen asleep organizing documents. It had been cute. He’d let her sleep until Roy had shown up wondering where she’d gotten to. Roy hadn’t yelled at him, thankfully. 

“We’re gonna get out,” Sammy whispered, brushing her hair out of her face. “You’ll get to see your brother again, and I’ll be able to make music again. It’ll all be alright.” He had to believe that. The alternative was too scary.


	3. False Acolyte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I cried while writing this.   
> False Protagonists belongs to Disneyphantomlover

I realized I never wrote Acolyte Cordelia in the False Protagonists verse. So here it is. 

I cried a little while writing this because I read back through Dreams Come True by Disneyphantomlover

And here's [Stable Acolyte.](http://queenofcats17.tumblr.com/post/174449478805/so-i-was-writing-a-thing-involving-acolyte)

* * *

 

When Henry had taken the toons out of the studio, he’d acquired an unexpected tagalong. Cordelia Bell, also known as the Acolyte, had discovered them as they’d been leaving and had decided to come with them and leave the studio. With the destruction of the ink machine, she’d gained a bit of a more stable form. Henry hadn’t had the heart to leave her behind. The toons weren’t exactly sure what to make of her, especially since she had such a strong connection to who they used to be. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to know the toons used to be humans. She was happily oblivious as Henry brought her into his home. However, she wasn’t who she had once been. Her time as an ink creature had robbed her of many of her memories. Only those with a strong connection to her were remembered. Roy, of course, as well as Sammy and a large portion of the studio. She talked about them quite a bit, telling the toons all about all her friends at the studio. They listened politely most of the time, but often found ways to distract her from her train of thought. It was painfully easy. Especially when it came to music. If Alice or Boris suggested they play some music, anything Cordelia had been saying was instantly forgotten. They felt rather guilty about distracting her, but it was less painful that way. They didn’t see the real Cordelia until Boris took on the appearance of Sammy Lawrence.

That day, she’d been fast asleep. She’d been up late the other night trying to make bread and so Henry hadn’t taken her to the theater with Bendy and Alice. She had been having a strange dream that she’d been back at the studio with Sammy. But he hadn’t looked the same as she remembered. He’d been made of ink, wearing a pair of ratty pants and suspenders. He’d taken her into a room after breaking her ankle and…and…She woke up screaming. Everything came flooding back to her in a single moment. She immediately ran downstairs. She had to get to the bathroom and vomit her guts out. She threw open the door to the bathroom and streaked to the toilet, leaning down and throwing up. Behind her, she heard someone scream. She looked up blearily, and her heart stopped. Standing behind her, wrapped in a blanket, was Sammy Wes Lawrence.

“S-Sammy?” She whispered. Just then, Becca appeared in the doorway. She looked as shaken up as Cordelia was. At the arrival of Becca, Sammy stumbled backward, falling into the bathtub.

“Are you alright?” Cordelia wiped her mouth on the back of her hand. She quickly flushed the evidence and got up to stand in front of him. He whimpered and withdrew from her. It was only then that she realized he was wearing Boris’ pajamas.

“Boris?” She asked. “Are you alright?”

“No,” Boris said in a small voice. _Sammy’s_ voice.

“Right. It was stupid of me to think that you would be.” Her shoulders slumped. God, it hurt seeing him again. She wanted to crawl into the tub with him and just throw her arms around the figure of the man who had once been her mentor. Why did her chest feel so tight? Thankfully, Boris looked past her, at someone standing in the doorway.

“…Henry? Why do I look li’ Mr. Sammy?” He asked.

“…I-… I have no idea…” Henry’s voice answered from behind her. Cordelia’s shoulders were starting to shake. No. She couldn’t start crying now. Boris needed her to be strong and make him feel better. She needed to keep herself together.

“Are you alright?” She asked, her tongue feeling thick. She walked over, taking Boris’ hand in hers. He flinched back but she held firm, trying to ignore the callouses on his fingers and palms.

“Why do I look li’ Mr. Sammy?” Boris repeated, looking up at her with a look of fear she’d never seen on Sammy’s face before.

“I don’t know.” She smiled reassuringly, rubbing circles on his hands with her thumb. “But you’re going to be okay. We’re here for you, okay?”

“Okay.” Boris seemed to relax a little. Cordelia had always been good at defusing tense situations. All she had to do was smile and slip into her old role of mediator.

“Do you want me to go get Alice and Bendy?” Her voice was gentle, calming. Boris’ eyes went wide.

“No! They can’t see me like this!” He shook his head fervently.

“ ** _See you like what?_** ” Bendy stuck his head in, prompting Boris to pull his blanket over his head to try and hide.

“Come on, now. You don’t look that bad.” Cordelia knelt down so she could look him in the eye. She noticed his eyes were still pie cut, despite mostly looking human. For a moment, Bendy just stared at Boris, much like Cordelia had.

“ _ **Ya look li’ a kicked puppy in a bathtub, buddy. Hardly a wolf at all!**_ ” Bendy quickly bounced back, waltzing over and leaning on the edge of the tub.

“Bendy.” She chided him gently.

“ ** _What? I’m just bein’ honest._** ” Bendy folded his hands behind his head. “ _ **Oh! Hey. Ya still ga’ notched eyes, Bo. They’re jus’ blue now!**_ ”

“Really?” Boris asked.

“They look lovely if that helps.” Cordelia took a step back so Boris could get out of the tub to inspect himself. God, she’d forgotten just how tall Sammy was. Almost as tall as Roy. She was almost lost in the memory as Bendy dragged Alice in and they began cutting Boris’ hair and shaving him. She stayed mostly quiet, occasionally jumping in and giving them feedback. Only once she was alone with Boris did she finally let her façade slip. She had to admit, Boris did look a lot better, almost like the Sammy she remembered.

“Do you feel any better?” She asked, putting a hand on his shoulder.

 “…Is this who you used to be?” Boris asked.

“Pretty much.” Cordelia nodded. “I was always the mediator. Someone had to make sure Roy was alright during his bad days.”

“So, you…Remember everything now?”

“Pretty much.”

“Aren’tcha angry?” Boris asked, hunching his shoulders a bit. “He did this to you, didn’t he?”

“He did…” She said, going over to stand in front of the sink. “But it wasn’t out of malicious intent, despite his madness.” For a moment, there was silence as she leaned on the sink.

“I miss him so much.” Her voice wavered as she stared into the mirror. The face looking back at her was still her own, but at the same time, it was completely different. Her face was framed now with hair as black as night, only one pie cut eye visible. She knew that under the fringe of hair there was only an empty eye socket. She’d plucked it out herself. She remembered that much. Tears threatened to spill over.

“I’m not him,” Boris said.

“I know.” She turned back to him, wiping away a stray tear and smiling. “And I’m not asking you to be. Just…Be my friend, won’t you?” She stood beside him for a moment before wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

“I feel like we both really need a hug right now.” She said, resting her head on his shoulder.

“ ** _Bo! What’s takin’ you so long!_** ” Bendy whined from downstairs.

“ **Miss Becca’s making lunch!** ” Alice added. “ **Aren’t you hungry?** ”

“Let’s go.” Cordelia took him by the end, leading him downstairs. Alice and Bendy were already giving her strange looks due to how calm and even-tempered she was being, and Becca now joined them in that look. But that quickly faded as she saw Boris and moved on to comfort him. Cordelia stayed lucid for the rest of the day, finally slipping back to her Acolyte mindset right after Boris had turned back into himself. Boris was almost glad to see her wander in with that blankly cheerful look on her face.

“Bo!” She immediately latched onto his arm and snuggled up to him. “There you are! I woke up and it was already night! Did I miss anything?”

“ **No, you didn’t miss a thing.** ” Boris smiled gently and ruffled her hair. Cordelia grinned and nuzzled his chest.

“Why’s everyone so quiet?” She asked, frowning adorably. “Did something happen?”

“It was nothing,” Henry said.

“Okay.” Cordelia shrugged. “I’m gonna go play the piano now.” She separated from Boris and walked over to go play the piano. Alice trailed after her.

“ **What’re ya gonna play, sweetheart?** ” She asked, settling down beside Cordelia.

“Lighter Side of Hell!” Cordelia said brightly. “It’s my favorite song! Sammy taught me how to play it. I didn’t do too well at first, but I have it now!” She turned her attention back to the piano and began to play. The room was filled with the song, soon enough joined by Cordelia’s high clear voice. As she played, tears began to drop onto the keys of the piano. Cordelia didn’t notice, completely losing herself in the song. Only once she’d finished did she see the black tears on the keys.

“When did I start crying?” She asked, touching her face and staring at her wet fingers.

“ ** _What’s with the long face, toots?_** ” Bendy slapped her back. “ ** _You played great!_** ”

“I…I feel sad.” Cordelia kept staring at her fingers, white as paper with the black drops staining the ridges and grooves. “Like I’m missing something.” She got up and walked over to Boris, burying her face in his fur as she started to sob. Boris stiffened slightly but awkwardly patted her head until she finally stopped.

The toons saw lucid Cordelia a few more times over the next few days, with increasing frequency, but she seemed to return for good upon seeing her brother once again. They were at the cabin, having the time of their lives when there was a knock at the door.

“That must be him.” Becca got up and went to the door.

“Must be who?” Cordelia asked. She and the toons were playing cards in the living room, and Alice was winning much to Boris and Bendy’s dismay.

“ ** _Don’t try to distract us, toots,_** ” Bendy said, bending over his cards. “ ** _I’m gonna win this hand!_** ”

“ **Whatever you say, honey**.” Alice snickered from behind her cards.

“But we aren’t expecting anyone,” Cordelia said, laying down her cards. “At least, I don’t think we are…We aren’t, are we?”

“ **Don’t think so.** ” Boris shrugged. Cordelia frowned and got up to go see who Becca was greeting. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the visitor. Her whole body began to shake. By this point, the toons had noticed her disappearance and had come to investigate. They too stopped in their tracks. Roy Bell stood in the doorway to the cabin, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked so old, so tired. Cordelia’s legs started moving on their own and she ran over and wrapped her arms around Roy’s waist, starting to sob into his suit jacket.

“Hey, Dee.” His expression softened and he stroked her hair gently. “I missed you too.” She was crying so hard she could barely speak.

“ ** _Who’s this guy?_** ” Bendy asked, even though he knew full well.

“This is Roy, Cordelia’s brother,” Becca explained. “Henry called him to pick up Cordelia.”

“ **She’s leavin’?** ” Boris asked, his ears drooping.

“Well, Roy is her family.” Becca pointed out. “And he does want to have his sister back.”

“Thank you for taking care of my sister.” Roy nodded to the toons, sweeping off his boater hat. “I really appreciate it. She must have been a bit of a handful.”

“You’re a bastard, Roy.” Cordelia’s voice was muffled by his waistcoat.

“ ** _Don’ worry ‘bout it!_** ” Bendy said quickly. “ ** _She was a real doll!_** ”

“ **It was lovely having her around.** ” Alice nodded. “ **We’re going to miss her.** ” Roy smiled, an expression none of them had ever seen on his face even in their human forms, and chuckled.

“Good to know she’s still the same as ever.” He patted his sister’s head. Cordelia withdrew a bit, smiling through her tears.

“God, you got old.” She said. “You have so many wrinkles now! And your hair’s all grey!”

“Oh, shut up.”

Becca smiled softly and left the room. But the toons stayed, unsure how to react to this situation. After a few minutes of playful jabs towards one another, the siblings separated. Cordelia was still crying, but she was smiling now. She was just so happy. She’d missed him so much.

“ **We should prolly go.** ” Boris started to leave, but Cordelia grabbed him by the hand.

“No no! I want Roy to get to know all of you.” She shook her head. “You’re my friends!”

“ **Well, we were playing cards,** ” Alice said. “ **Do you want to play cards with us, Mr. Bell?** ”

“Call me Roy. And yes, I would love that.” He smiled again, following them to where they’d been playing cards.

“ ** _We’re not gonna go easy on you, old man._** ” Bendy gave him a cheeky grin.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less.” Roy settled on the couch, beside his sister. As it turned out, Roy was surprisingly good at cards. Not as good as Alice, but good enough that he beat out Boris and Bendy. Cordelia wasn’t even really playing anymore, latching onto her brother’s arm. By the end of the games, Roy seemed to have been more or less accepted by the toons. They were sad when he had to leave, especially since he was to be taking Cordelia with him.

“Wait,” she said as they walked to the door. “I…I want to stay.” Roy stopped and turned around, raising an eyebrow. He waited for her reasoning, knowing she had one.

“They need me right now.” She said, shaking her head. “But I’ll come back to you once this is all over. I promise.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Roy leaned over and kissed her head. “I am going to be coming back, though. And I’m bringing my family with me.”

“You have a family?” Her eyes lit up.

“I do. And you’ll meet them.” He promised. Then he left, leaving Cordelia with the toons. She’d go home eventually. But for now, the toons needed their acolyte.

 


	4. I Wanna Be Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cordelia tries to cheer up her prophet

Here's the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AWVhw3hQ17Y)

This doesn't have to be read as False Protagonists, but that's kind of what I wrote it as because I wanted to write more Acolyte Cordelia in False Protagonists 

* * *

It was quiet in the studio. But then again, it was always quiet. Cordelia was in a rather displeased mood. Sammy was in his office, moping. He did this every so often. Like her, he had flashes of memories. When the memories came, Sammy became sad and locked himself away in his office to reminisce and weep. Cordelia never liked it when he was like this. When he was sad, she was sad too. He had brought her out of the ink, reminded her of who she was. In return, she followed his every word, lifted him up when he needed it. She marched up to his door and knocked. Or tried to. She didn’t really have hands anymore.

“My prophet?” She said, peering through the window. “You’ve been in there for an awfully long time.” He’d discarded his mask on the desk. Not a good sign.

“ _Leave me alone, Cordelia,_ ” Sammy mumbled, head in his hands. “ _I’m not in the mood for talking._ ” He was never in the mood for talking when he was like this. She hated the silence. The silence was when she was forced to confront what she was and what had happened to her. She didn’t want silence. She wanted life! Music! She wanted to make him smile. So she opened the door and marched over, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him to his feet.

“ _What are you doing?_ ” He demanded as she dragged him out of his office, taking his mask with her.

“We’re going to play some music.” She said, taking him into the band room.

“ _I don’t want to play anything right now!_ ” He tried to pull away, but she had a surprisingly strong grip for someone so small. She plopped him down at the piano and instructed him to start playing.

“ _I don’t even know what you want me to play._ ” He muttered, putting his mask back on. Cordelia sighed dramatically, attempting to flip her hair. Sammy couldn’t help but crack a bit of a smile. This made Cordelia smile wide as well.

“I’ll start singing and I think you’ll catch on.” She said, clearing her throat.

“I’ve posed for pictures with Iv’ry Soap. I’ve petted stray dogs, and shied clear of dope.” She began, overexaggerating every motion. “My smile is brilliant, my glance is tender. But I’m noted  most for my unspoiled gender.” She gave him a cheeky wink. Sammy shook his head and laughed softly.

“I’ve been made Miss Reingold, though I never touch beer. And I’m the person to whom they say, ‘You’re sweet, my dear’. The only etchings I’ve seen have been behind glass. And the closest I’ve been to a bar is at ballet class. Prim and proper, the girl who’s never been cased. ” She made a big show of acting demure and sweet, before giving him a mischievous grin as she moved on to the next section. “I’m tired of being pure and not chased. Like something that seeks its level, I want to go to the devil!”

Her voice rose and Sammy caught on to what she was singing. Something about it seemed awfully familiar, sparking memories in him of sitting in a cozy living room, listening to a record.

“ _I can’t believe you’re singing this._ ” He laughed.

“I want to be evil! I want to spit tacks! I want to be evil and cheat at jacks!” She crowed. “I want to be wicked, I want to tell lies! I want to be mean and throw mud pies!” She began to dance around the room, arms spread wide. The ink was sloughing off her arms and he could see her hands. “I want to wake up in the morning, with that dark brown taste. I want to see some dissipation in my face. I want to be evil, I want to be mad! But more than that, I want to be bad!” She ran back over, grabbing Sammy by the hand and leading him out to dance with her.

“I want to be evil and trump an ace. Just to see my partner’s face.” She leaned in close, her single visible eye sparkling with delight and something dark and almost evil. “I want to be nasty, I want to be cruel. I want to be daring, I want to shoot pool~” She broke off and began to spin, her dress lifting off the ground and starting to swirl around her. For the first time in a long time, she looked human.

“And in the theater, I want to change my seat. Just so I can step on everybody’s feet. I want to be evil, I want to hurt flies! I want to sing songs like the guy who cries!” Her voice filled the entire room, surrounding him and making him feel human once more as well. “I want to be horrid, I want to drink booze! And whatever I’ve got, I’m eager to lose! I want to be evil, little evil me! Just as mean and evil as I can be!”

For a moment, they stared at one another and didn’t see an ink creature staring back at them. They saw one another as they’d once been. But then it was gone, leaving them in their current state.

“ _That was…Thank you._ ” Sammy crossed the room to put his hands on her shoulders. “ _I needed that._ ”

“You’re very welcome, my prophet!” She threw herself onto him, nuzzling her face into his chest. He patted her head, as one did a child or a small animal. He really was lucky to have her there. He couldn’t imagine what it would have been like had he been alone, dealing with all this by himself.

“Do you want to put up more cutouts?” She asked, looking up at him brightly.

“ _That sounds good._ ”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write some Acolyte Cordelia stuff, so here it is.


End file.
